Something Worth Keeping Safe
by FireAndFury
Summary: "Come on, Jen. I'll drive ya home." Takes place directly after episode 3.22, Jeopardy. Jenny/Gibbs. Terrible summary, I know. Probably could've been rated K, but rated T just to be safe. Please read and review :)


**Author's Note**

 **Okay so this is my first NCIS fanfiction. I absolutely loved the episode** ** _Jeopardy_** **in season three and it inspired me to write this little one-shot. This is a Jibbs story. Don't like? Don't read. :P**

 **A very special thanks to thepockethuman for watching the show with me, beta reading this bit of fluff, and putting up with all of my fandom obsessions :D**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. If I did, I would've been able to give the entire cast an Abby-hug. Words in italics are from the show.**

 **Something Worth Keeping safe**

 _"I'm fine, Jethro. Really. It was a probie mistake, I should've known better. Never should've let my guard down. How many times have we said that?_

 _"_ _Stanley was a hell of an agent, he didn't deserve this. And I know what you're gonna say 'you're the director now, it comes with the territory' but I hope to God I never get used to it._

 _"_ _Are you ever gonna say anything?"_

 _"Have a drink."_

Stepping out of the elevator from autopsy, the Director and her lead agent walked into the empty bullpen.

"Come on, Jen. I'll drive ya home."

"It's fine, Jethro. I can manage to get home by myself."

"How? You don't have a driver." Gibbs cringed and mentally head-slapped himself. Bad timing.

Her eyes flashed with guilt before responding softly. "I suppose you're right."

With that, he tentatively placed a hand at the small of her back and led her to the parking garage. He opened the passenger side of his truck and helped her in before hopping into the driver's side and starting the engine. The drive was uncharacteristically silent.

They pulled up to his house only a few minutes later.

"Jethro... This isn't my house."

"I know that."

She shot him a glare.

"What? I never said we were going to your house."

"Then why, may I ask, are we here?" She retorted, annoyance lacing her tone.

"Because I don't think that you're okay and there's no way I'm letting you out of my sight right now." He answered roughly.

She didn't look convinced.

"Please, Jen? I need to know your safe." He looked at her, his gaze begging.

She was mildly stunned to say the least. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs does not say 'please', the only exception being the time she almost went for an interview with CBS during her first week as Director. Her forest green orbs met his sky blues and she felt her resolve beginning to break.

"Fine." She grumbled before opening the truck door and climbing out with a grace that only Jennifer Shepard could achieve despite the killer pair of heels on her feet. Gibbs chuckled before following her to the front door, his long strides allowing him to catch up with her rather quickly. He opened the door for her, as any gentleman would, and both took a breath as the warm air from the house began to engulf them. The silver-haired agent turned and locked the door behind him, something he hadn't done for quite some time. Jenny looked at him, her head slightly tilted to the side and one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in question.

"I thought you always left your door unlocked."

"I usually do."

"So… why not tonight?"

He paused for a moment before replying almost cautiously. "I suppose it's because I have something worth keeping safe for now."

She smiled slightly, "Leroy Jethro Gibbs, you are a strange man."

This comment only caused him to scoff as he walked into the kitchen. She started to follow him but stopped in her tracks.

"Jethro?"

"Yeah?"

"Um… what exactly am I supposed to wear? I don't have a change of clothes with me and I'd rather not have my suit wrinkled more than it already is…" She avoided eye contact and scratched the back of her neck.

Gibbs smirked at her awkwardness and met her question with silence. He watched as she shifted and began to fiddle with cuff of her sleeve before taking pity on the redhead and putting her out of her misery.

"I'm sure we can find something. Wouldn't be the first time you've worn one of my t-shirts."

His comment caused her to blush furiously before she sent him her own version of his famous glare.

All he did was grin at Jenny before him and walk up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Ya coming, Jen?"

The only response he received was the clicking of her ridiculously high heels.

When they reached the bedroom, he went to chest of drawers and pulled out his old U.S. Marine Corps t-shirt and pair of sweat pants before throwing them in her general direction. The Director caught them with ease and tucked them neatly under her arm.

"Bathroom is down the hall and to the left. You can get dressed in there."

The two walked into the hall when the woman stopped, Gibbs barely crashing into her. Jenny turned and suddenly found her feet incredibly interesting.

"I haven't informed Stanley's family yet." She mumbled sadly.

The agent gently turned her back around and, despite her protests, pushed her to the bathroom.

"You get dressed. I got it, okay?"

Jenny nodded mutely before carefully closing the door. She heard his quiet footsteps go into his room and then descend the stairs as she removed her work attire and stilettos. She slipped the soft, over-sized t-shirt over her head and inhaled deeply. It smelt of coffee, sawdust, and something distinctly Jethro, a scent she had long associated with security. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and pulled on the sweatpants. Tying the drawstrings as tight as her slim waist would allow and rolling up the pant legs so they wouldn't drag the floor, she turned and exited the confines of the bathroom, carrying her heels and one hand and her clothes in the other.

In the time that Jenny was getting dressed, Gibbs had managed to change into a t-shirt and sweatpants himself as well as call Stanley's family to inform them of the agent's death. They'd taken the news hard but didn't blame the Director for his passing. After offering his condolences, and Jenny's as well, he hung up and began to make a fresh pot of coffee. He heard Jenny before he saw her, and the man watched, two cups of black coffee in his hands, as his ex-partner slowly walked down the stairs. His breath caught somewhat at seeing her clad in his old t-shirt and sweatpants, both of which hung loosely about her small frame, hair slightly mussed and sticking up in different directions, and without her outrageously high heels. She managed to look breathtaking without even trying. The redhead smiled almost shyly at him before coming to take one of the cups he offered to her. Without her heels, the top of her head only came up to his chin, a sight he found most amusing. Catching the glint of humor in his eyes, she glared at him.

"What?"

He laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Nothing… Just been a while since I've see ya without those spikes you call footwear."

She nodded before taking a sip of the scalding liquid while he moved to sit at the kitchen table. Following his lead, the woman sat across from him and stared silently at the drink in her hand, her index finger lightly tracing the rim of the mug.

"They don't blame you, Jen."

She looked up at him sharply.

"Stanley's family. They don't blame you."

Her gaze drifted back to the mug in her hands. "An agent is dead because I made a mistake. I wasn't careful enough, Jethro."

He placed a hand on top of hers, effectively ceasing the tracing of the outer rim of the coffee cup.

"It's not your fault, Jenny. You said it yourself, Stanley was a hell of an agent. That also means that he knew the risks of being one. Don't go blaming yourself for this."

She stole a glance at the man in front of her and a look of understanding passed between the two.

"I'll write to them in the morning." She stated with a bit more confidence than she had had before.

"Sounds like a plan. I'm going off to work on the boat. You're more than welcome to keep me company," He smirked, getting up from the table, "or you can go ahead and take the bedroom for the night. Tomorrow is Saturday so you can sleep in as late as you like."

Instead of waiting for an answer, the tall, blue-eyed Marine turned on his heel and walked down the stairs to his basement leaving a perplexed redhead in his wake. Taking one last gulp of her beverage, and rolling her eyes in the process, the woman followed her ex-partner to his "cave".

The sight that greeted Jennifer was a familiar, yet practically forgotten one. Gibbs stood there sanding his precious boat, his hands moving rhythmically back and forth with the grain of the light wood. The overwhelming scent of saw dust greeted her senses as her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting. The agent only gave a small smirk in acknowledgement of her appearance before striding over to the back of the basement to work on the end of the boat's skeleton. The Director took in her surroundings. Sawdust littering the floor: normal. Bottle of bourbon sitting next to a couple of mason jars filled with nails: normal. Miscellaneous tools scattered about the workbench: normal. Maroon couch placed against the side wall: abnormal.

"I don't recall this being here the last time I visited you." The redhead lilted pointing to the overstuffed piece of furniture.

Without taking his eyes off of the task at hand, the silver-haired fox responded.

"Abby stayed here one night while that psychotic Mawher guy was stalking her. She somehow found out that I often fell asleep down here under the boat and began to rant off how terrible it was for my back, claiming that I at least needed a couch for when I felt too drowsy to head upstairs. Found that one at a good price."

She gingerly sat on the dark red material and observed the man work on his boat, perfectly content. Feeling the events of the day beginning to catch up with her, the woman made herself more comfortable and laid down on the soft cushions. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she was gently lulled to sleep by the sound of sandpaper gliding along the rough wood of the boat's skeleton.

Gibbs noticed her obliviousness and allowed his mind to wander, as it often did when he worked on the boat. More often than not, a certain Director occupied his thoughts and the fact that she was here sleeping on his couch didn't help. He wasn't lying when he said he missed her on her first day as Director and the fact that she had shut him down so quickly had hurt more than he cared to admit. He could've head-slapped himself for the timing though. In his defense, he was shocked. Seeing her again after six years without contact caused flashbacks of their time in Paris to appear in hindsight only to be brought back to MTAC by the sound of her voice. He didn't just miss Paris though. It was more than that. She had been his best friend, probably still was. He'd missed their banter, her sarcasm and wit, her ability to challenge him, and admittedly, the close bond they once had. The first few weeks with her being his boss instead of his partner were rather awkward but over the last few months they'd been able to repair some of the damage done to their relationship. Sure, they fought, quite a bit actually, but it was almost a game between the two. It didn't matter who was right, they battled just because they could. He'd also brought take out to her office more than a few times. He thought that she worked herself too hard and food was probably the last thing on her mind. It was his way of checking up on her and making sure that she was okay. In the last few weeks, it had almost become a routine if he knew she was working late.

Yes, everything was slowly being mended back to normal minus the fact that their relationship hadn't gone past the point of friendship. He wished it was more. He still loved her. Jenny was probably the only woman, other than Shannon, that he had truly allowed himself to feel that emotion for.

Gibbs looked at the sleeping redhead. His heart broke a little at the sight that met him. There was Jenny, knees pulled close to her chest and whimpering as streams of tears poured silently down her porcelain cheeks. As the agent slowly crept around the skeleton of the boat, he began to hear the previously incoherent moans that escaped her lips.

Her obvious pain became louder, her back arched, and she began to thrash violently as if fighting off an invisible attacker. That's when the screaming started.

Gibbs decided it was time to take action and quickly rushed to Jenny's side. He sat on the side of the couch and reached out to grab her wrists to avoid her hurting herself as well as him when he noticed the dark bruises and raw, bright red marks that angrily marred her pale skin. He felt his blood boil at the thought of Dempsey causing this. If Gibbs hadn't already shot him, the man would be facing a rather long and torturous demise at the hand of one particular lead agent just for touching the redhead.

Avoiding the harm that the ropes had inflicted upon her wrists, the man gently took one of her forearms and began to lightly shake her shoulder.

"Jen! Come on Jenny, wake up! It's only a nightmare!"

Suddenly the redhead's eyes snapped open, fear glazing over her usually bright emerald orbs as she jolted forward. Gibbs released his hold on her as she began to calm down slightly.

"Jen?"

The Director furiously wiped away the remaining tears with the back of her fist and sighed. She looked down into her lap and ran a hand through her short auburn locks.

"I'm fine, Jethro. Just a stupid dream. Sorry if I bothered you." She whispered refusing to meet his questioning gaze.

"You're lying to me, Jen."

"Am not!"

"Are too. Your eye twitched."

The only response he received was a huff.

"Ya wanna talk about it?" He asked, his tone more gentle than she had heard in years.

She stared at her shaking hands, refusing to acknowledge his question. The silver-haired agent continued to sit patiently on the edge of the couch, staring at her intently. He carefully placed one calloused hand over her smaller, trembling one and slowly began to rub small circles on the inside of her palm with his thumb. Jenny tensed and her breath hitched before allowing herself to slowly relax.

"The first part is all a bit blurry, flashbacks mostly. But I remember the end: you didn't get there in time." She mumbled so quietly that he had to strain to hear her.

His hand gently squeezed hers in silent gesture of comfort and allowed for her to continue.

"You didn't get there in time," she repeated shakily, "and Dempsey made good on his promise. He told me that if you didn't get there before the hour was up, he'd send me back to the agency, piece by piece. I felt every single slice of the knife blade… It was awful, Jethro."

The man leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her slim frame as salty tears slowly soaked his t-shirt. Gibbs softly stroked her spine in a futile attempt to calm the distraught Director. In all his years of knowing her, he had only seen her cry once and that was when she took a bullet to the thigh in the Czech Republic. Seeing the redhead this upset stirred up the overwhelming desire to protect her once more, even if it was from her own subconscious.

"Shh.. Jen. You're okay," he mumbled into her hair, "you're safe. I'm not gonna let 'em get ya. It was just a bad dream."

When her breathing began to slow, he pulled back and wiped the remaining tears with pads of his thumbs. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot and her bottom lip caught between her teeth uncertainly.

"I'll be right back." Gibbs whispered before quickly pressing his lips to her forehead and taking the stairs two at a time back to the main part of the house.

Jenny was stunned and fought the blush that slowly creeped from her neck to the ivory skin of her cheeks. He hadn't done that since Paris a little over six years ago. It felt… nice. If she were honest with herself, she missed it. She loved him, still did. It took all of her willpower to tell him that there would be no "off the job" that first day as Director and the pain of rejection in his eyes almost made her call him back to accept his offer to start over. Instead, she stood by her decision and as a consequence continued to live a life of solitude. During work hours, she was too focused on her job to think of personal relationships. It was after work when she came home to an empty townhouse that she realized how alone she truly was. The redhead often wondered what life would've been like if she hadn't left him. Would they've been married? Had kids? Perhaps she'd never know, but Jenny couldn't help but feel the bitter emptiness of regret that settled within the pit of her stomach, not an uncommon feeling these days.

Her musings were interrupted by the quiet footfalls of her former partner as he stealthy moved down the staircase with two mugs in his hands. He wordlessly passed one of them to her and sat to her left on the worn couch. The sweet aroma of vanilla and chamomile filled her senses.

"Tea? I thought you only drank coffee and bourbon, Jethro."

He smiled slightly. "Tea helps me sleep and occasionally prevents the nightmares."

Jenny nodded slowly before taking a generous sip of the hot liquid and allowing it to relax her.

A comfortable silence settled over the two, each occasionally bringing their respective mugs to their lips and taking in the certain warmth that came from both the drink and the company present.

"Jethro?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Ya already did, Jen."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

The tall agent glanced to his right and looked at her lazily.

"Fine. I suppose one more can't be too painful." He said with a playful grin.

She looked down, grief and doubt filling her gaze.

"Do you hate me?"

Gibbs set down his mug and tried to catch her gaze. Her usually bright green orbs were filled with tears and her lower lip was caught between her teeth once more.

"Now why would ya think that, Jen?"

She looked up harshly, her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly.

"Why would I think that? I left you, Jethro! I-I left you with nothing but a letter... I didn't even have the courage to tell you that I was leaving to your face. I just ran! And then you told me you missed me and I just told you to not make this anymore complicated... It was so painful to say that and I know I hurt you too. It's still one of my greatest regrets. Now I know there's no possible way you could ever love me back, how could you? I've caused you too much pain and for that I'm sor-"

Her rant was cut short by his lips being pressed gently over hers. To say she was stunned would be a large understatement. Of all the possible scenarios she had worked out inside her head, this was the reaction she had least expected. Sadness: yes. Blunt rejection: yep. Anger: maybe. But kissing her? Nope. Definitely didn't think that would happen. Not to say it wasn't welcome, just surprising.

Before she had a chance to respond, Gibbs pulled back and looked at her lovingly. He couldn't help but chuckle slightly as he noticed the shocked expression plastered onto her face. Her eyes had doubled in size and her jaw dropped, a vibrant blush gracing her pale features. Quite frankly, he found it adorable.

"Jethro!" She exclaimed, finally finding her voice.

"What?" he questioned, a bemused smirk playing on his lips.

"Did you just- ? Wha- ?"

"You know what I think about apologies and you wouldn't shut up. Always knew I could make you speechless, Jen." He grinned at her cheekily.

She playfully slapped his shoulder and set her mug down as well before snaking a hand around the back of his neck and pulling his mouth towards hers. The kiss was tentative at first before easily turning into an almost forgotten rhythm. If her kiss was a question, then his was certainly an answer. Her arms had settled themselves on his shoulders, her fingers threading through his silver, military cut, while he wrapped one hand around her waist, the other going to play with the short crimson locks of her hair. They broke apart only when the need for oxygen became too much, their foreheads still resting against each other as they caught their breath. Gibbs allowed a rare grin to grace his features when he noticed that her eyes were still closed and her lips were slightly parted in a small smile. He pulled back and lightly placed a light kiss to her hairline.

"To answer your earlier question, no. It wasn't just your fault but mine too. I should've come after you but I didn't. I won't make that same mistake twice. I love you, Jenny Shepard. Never stopped."

She glanced up and regarded him with a hint of uncertainty hidden behind her bright orbs. "Do you mean that, Jethro?"

"Every word."

Her face lit up with one of the most brilliant smiles he had seen in a long time before placing another chaste kiss to his lips. "Good, because I love you too."

They settled into another easy silence. Gibbs shifted so he was leaning against the back of the plush couch and opened his arms in invitation. Jenny immediately nestled into his side, arms going around his torso, head nuzzled into his chest, and feet curled next to her. He moved his arm to instinctively encircle her slim waist, his hand resting protectively on her hip, while his fingers continued to play with the soft, flaming tresses at the base of her neck. She released a sigh of contentment before slowly allowing her eyes to drift shut.

"Get some rest, Jen."

He didn't need to tell her twice, her breathing had already evened out and her arms had gone limp around his waist. He placed his chin atop her head before allowing himself to follow her lead, letting sleep claim him as well. Despite the fact that they had both fallen asleep on an old couch, it was the best rest they'd had in years.

 **Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcome :)**


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